I always knew I was different.
No matter how often they tried to convince me otherwise, I felt it. Like a whisper in my bones… a fire under my skin.The other kids could feel it too. That's why they avoided me. Whispered behind their hands. Called me cursed. A bad omen.
None of it made sense. And none of it mattered.At least, that's what I told myself.
As long as it never touched my life—my normal life—I thought I'd be fine.But "normal" was never written into my story.
And the illusion?It shattered the moment I learned the truth.The truth of who I am… and what I was born to become.
Let's go back to the day it all began.
Chapter One: The Throne of Shadows
"What is this?!"
The thunderous voice of King Alex cracked through the vampire throne room like a storm splitting the skies. Dark marble columns trembled from the force. The guards standing around the room stiffened, holding formation.
The King of Vampires sat tall upon his obsidian throne, draped in shadows. His long, black hair was tied loosely at the back, a few strands falling over his cold brown eyes—eyes that looked like they had never seen mercy.
Before him, surrounded by guards, a woman knelt.
She was shackled, bruised, bleeding. Her once-glorious black hair hung in tangled mats over her face. Her tattered gown clung to a body beaten by whips. And her blue eyes—those dazzling dragon-born eyes—were dulled to embers.
Her hands trembled. But her spine did not bow.
In the background, a soft, helpless cry echoed.
A baby's cry.
The child was held tightly in the arms of a guard, wrapped in a rough cloth, far from his mother's touch.
Alex's gaze burned through the woman like poison.
"What are you?" he demanded again, his tone colder now, quieter—more dangerous.
Still, she did not speak.
A guard stepped forward. "Your Majesty," he said, voice firm. "She was discovered at the ruins of the Dragon Kingdom, just outside the border. The villagers claim… she's one of them."
A murmur passed through the soldiers. But Alex said nothing. He didn't need to.
His silence was the blade.
"What are you?" the king asked once more, softly. Cruelly. His tone made the air itself feel sharp.
This time, the woman lifted her head.
And she spoke.
Her voice was hoarse. Blood-stained. But defiant.
"I am the raze… of the forgotten and betrayed species."
Gasps broke out. Confused glances. But Alex… Alex understood.
She was a dragon.
One of the last.
A flicker of something unreadable passed over his face—recognition, maybe. Then it vanished, replaced by that familiar chill.
"And what should I do with you, dragon?" he asked.
Her gaze dropped. Her lips trembled.
Not from fear… but because she was looking at her child.
Her baby.
He would never know her voice. Her warmth. Her protection.
And she would die without ever telling him his name.
"Throw her and her son into the fire pit," King Alex said coldly. "Burn them."
The fire roared.
It licked at the sky like a hungry beast, devouring wood, bones, and screams.The pit glowed red beneath the castle, hidden deep in the earth where no soul ever returned.
The woman never begged.She didn't cry.Not even when they tore her child from her arms.
But as the guards dragged her to the edge of the fire pit, she turned one last time.And whispered something no one heard—except the flames.
"I curse you, Alex. And I give my flame… to him."
They threw her in.
She didn't scream.
Then came the child. So small. So quiet now.
And just before they let go… the fire changed.
It roared higher, brighter, as if rejecting the offering.
The baby never burned.
Instead, the flames curled around him. Embraced him. Protected him.
And when the guards tried to reach in—to pull him back—they couldn't. The fire snapped, howled, and swallowed itself whole.
When the smoke cleared…
There was no baby.
No ash.
Just silence.
Just prophecy.
And above the pit, deep in the shadows, an old figure watched. Hooded. Waiting.
"He lives," the figure whispered. "The last ember of dragons... has survived.